


Of Fireflies, Serenades, & Swords

by Hugabug



Category: Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: A Failed Attempt At Elizabethan English, Fem!Benvolio, Fem!Mercutio - Freeform, Forgive Me Shakespeare, Gen, Valentine Is An Awesome Big Brother, Wee!Fem!Benvolio, Wee!Fem!Mercutia, Wee!Romeo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 05:04:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hugabug/pseuds/Hugabug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had always been ridiculed by adults and children alike for preferring their company to those of his own gender and age, but he did not mind.</p><p>Benvolia and Mercutia, to him, were stronger than all of the men in Verona put together, and he loved them dearly for that.</p><p>Or where Benvolio & Mercutio are Benvolia & Mercutia respectively and Valentine is a loving but overprotective elder brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Fireflies, Serenades, & Swords

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: We were ordered to perform Romeo & Juliet as our English Term exam and because we did not have enough boys (we're only 12 in a class, 5 guys and 7 girls) we had to make Benvolio and Mercutio into Benvolia and Mercutia.
> 
> And thus, this was born.

_Fireflies_

Benvolia had been by his side ever since they were children, and was more of a younger sister to him than a younger cousin.

He does not specifically remember how, why, or when it so happened that they went hand in hand, but it did not disturb him quite as much. Benvolia's presence was just as natural as the existence of the sun and moon. Wherever Romeo went, Benvolia would follow, and wherever Benvolia went, Romeo would most likely follow as well.

So when the time came for the Prince's ball (in celebration of the arrival of his kinsmen from Messina to Verona) and his father had insisted that Romeo attend along with him and his mother, Romeo had begged him to bring along Uncle Montressor (Benvolia's own father) and his family to accompany them. He was twelve at that time, Benvolia nine, and to children of such a young age, a ball was simply a place where one must only talk when spoken to and remain for guarded eyes to see. They would be tired before the festivities even began, and it was always better to endure a nightmare together than alone.

This fact did not mean Benvolia despised him for his actions any less.

"I cannot breathe in this dress." She had grumbled when Romeo dragged her to the far side of the open ball room. "Why did you have to do this to me? A gala such as this is no place for someone as young as I." She pouted. "I would rather play with Felipe."

Romeo scoffed. "You prefer the company of your dog over mine?" He asked, incredulously. Benvolia simply scowled and nodded in defiance.

Romeo huffed in return.

Minutes that felt like hours passed by, and soon, Romeo was leant upon one of the marble pillars, his eyes growing heavy and his head beginning to tilt forward. He was truly very tired, and it did not help that Benvolia was already leaning heavily into his arm. The dancing figures before him were simply a blur of many colours and he felt like he was being hypnotized by them. They were lulling him into a deep, deep sleep that he could not—

"Psst!"

He bolted upright, a movement that startled his cousin, and looked about.

"Psst!"

"Do you hear what I hear?" He asked young Benvolia who was now clutching his arm in wonder.

"Psst!" the noise sounded again, closer this time, and Romeo craned his neck to find the source. His curious eyes scanned the crowds and soon fell upon one of the open arches a few feet away. There at the opening stood a small girl in bright red, just about Benvolia's height, beckoning at them with a gloved hand.

"Psst!" the little girl said again, her face twisted into an annoyed scowl. "Come! Come!"

In the corner of his eye, Romeo saw Benvolia blink. "Why?"

"There is no more time for your silly questions!" the little girl hissed, looking behind her hastily. "Come!"

She then disappeared, leaving Benvolia and Romeo to exchange glances.

"Should we?" He asked his younger cousin. She did not answer, however, and instead pulled him toward the arch where the little girl had previously been. She was positively glowing with delight and relief. She was obviously glad for the interruption to their sleepy reverie.

"Psst!" the mysterious little girl called out to them again once they had step foot outside. She was far, far ahead, lithe figure hunched up into a red shawl she had wrapped around her little frame. She looked cold, but she was grinning a grin so wide that even from afar, Romeo could see it. "Here! Over here!"

She then raced ahead, and Benvolia tugged on his sleeve as she rushed to follow. He felt a small smile tugging his lips upward.

"Here!" their new companion cried in a hoarse whisper. She was closer to them, now, just a few feet away, pointing at something in front of her. She did not look like she was about to run ahead again. "Look!"

They caught up with her and followed her pointing finger to a wide strong trunk of an ancient tree. It did not look to be all that special.

"They say that at this very tree, faeries come out, dance, and grant wishes at midnight!" the little girl excitedly said as he and Benvolia peered at the great tree. "Earlier this evening, I asked my brother to join me to watch, but he was stolen away by my elder cousin before he could even agree."

"Can you not watch them dance alone?" Romeo asked her. The little girl frowned and shivered a little.

"They say that the faeries cast spells on little children who wonder alone at night." She explained. Romeo smirked.

"Art thou scared?"

The little girl glared at him, wrapping the shawl tighter around herself in a huff. "No." She hissed, eyes narrowing. "Art thou?"

Benvolia giggled and it was Romeo's turn to glare at her.

"What do they call you?" Benvolia asked the little girl, ignoring the way her cousin tightened his hand around hers. "We were forbidden to speak to people we do not know the name of."

"What is in a name?" the little girl scoffed, rolling her eyes. "If you call an Iris by any other name, it will still smell as sweet and will still look as beautiful." She shrugged. "There is truly no use for names."

"But if you do not tell us your name, then how can we trust you?" Romeo questioned, a small feeling of interest and irritation forming at the bottom of his stomach.

"If I did tell you my name, you would not be any step closer to learning to trust me." the little girl argued, crossing her arms. "And this is hardly fair. I did not ask to know your names."

"Well, they call me Romeo and this is my younger cousin, Benvolia." Romeo said, gesturing at his cousin who nodded along. The little girl's face twisted into a sour frown as they grinned. "We have told you ours, now you must tell us yours."

"Thou art as cumbersome as a boil at the bottom of one's foot." She huffed, frown darkening in annoyance. "... But perhaps we may reach a bargain."

"Oh?" Benvolia said. Had she been like little Felipe, her ears would have pricked up in interest. "What bargain is that?"

"I shall tell you my name when the faeries appear and begin to dance." the little girl replied, smugly smiling. "However in turn, you must tell me what you will wish for."

"That is hardly fair at all!" Benvolia protested, scowling. "You must tell us your wish as well!"

"It will be more even that way." Romeo agreed, nodding his head. The little girl's grin widened even more and she stuck out her hand in a very boyish manner.

"Agreed!" She proclaimed as Romeo took hold of her outstretched hand as a sign of allegiance. Then she sat herself on the dusty ground in the most unladylike position imaginable. "I will wish for my Father's safe return."

"Your Father?" Benvolia asked, curiously as they sat down to reach the little girl's eye level.

"He rode off to a battle months prior." She said, grinning proudly. "My brother doubts that he is well, but I do not. He will return, even without my wishes."

Contrary to her brave words, however, Romeo saw her bite her lip in worry.

"I shall wish for a bouquet of beautiful flowers, then." He announced. The little girl blinked in surprise, and next to him, Benvolia tilted her head to the side in confusion.

"Why, cousin?" She asked. He smiled.

"So that I will have something to give this young lady's Father when he returns." He explained, turning his smile to their new companion. She grinned a grateful grin in return. "Will he prefer any sort of colour?"

"He has always favoured red carnations." She answered, a wistful look upon her face. She turned to Benvolia. "What say you? What will you wish for?"

"A way for time to pass faster." His cousin replied, laughing. "I must say, I am curious to know your name. I do not even think it is midnight yet."

She looked up at the sky and frowned. Romeo followed her gaze and noticed that the bright moon was at its peak.

"It seems like an hour shall pass before midnight." He observed, nodding to the round rock that hung in the sky.

"No matter, it will give us time to talk." The little girl replied, grinning. "What say you about the food?"

They spoke for a time, quite long by Romeo's standards, but interesting nonetheless. This little girl was funny, her words flowed smoothly, like the crystal water one would find in the beautiful fountains in Rome. Their conversation would have gone on longer had Benvolia not spotted a tiny little light flitting about in the boughs of the tall tree.

"Look!" She cried, pointing at the light. They followed her gesture, and their new friend gasped in delight.

"They are dancing!" She squealed as more and more lights began to twinkle. Romeo, too, was just as mesmerized, staring up at the beauties that were more hypnotizing than the colourful dancers in the ballroom. "Oh, look, that one shines the most!"

They stood beneath the lights as they flitted about and Romeo felt a smile play at his lips. This was enchanting.

"They have begun." He said in a soft whisper, afraid that if he talked too loud, the faeries would be frightened and they would disappear. "Look at how they go!"

For a minute's time, they tilted their heads upward, watching as the faeries' lights flicker and float about. They looked so delicate yet so powerful... Romeo felt his breath catch in his throat and his stomach churn in longing.

At that moment, Romeo Montague fell in love. With who or what, he did not know. All he knew was that it was a glorious feeling, and he yearned to feel it again.

"Oh! You owe us your end of the bargain!" He heard Benvolia cry, startling him out of his own reverie. He blinked and turned to the two young girls with him, and he shot their mysterious little friend a grin.

"Indeed!" He continued. "You must now tell us what they call you."

At the mention of her promise, the little girl bit the bottom of her lip, a look of worry too great for a child making its way to her face.

"First you must promise that if I tell you what they call me, you will not react violently." She said, pointing a firm finger at them. They nodded. "You must swear!"

They exchanged glances, then nodded. "We swear."

Silence reigned for a passing minute, and their new friend busily tried to control her breathing. Finally, she threw them a wary grin.

"They call me Mercutia." She said.

And despite their promise, Romeo let a gasp rip itself from his lips.

"You are the Prince's kinswoman!" He accused, forgetting his manners and pointing at the girl—Mercutia. "The daughter of the Duke of Messina."

"Thou art as loud and as bawdy as a cock at early morn!" Mercutia sneered, placing both her hands on her hips, annoyed expression settling upon her face. "Aye, I am Escalus's cousin. Aye, I am the daughter of a Duke." She glared at them both. "But I do not wish to be treated as such!"

Benvolia nodded. "Understood, Mercutia." She told her, startling Romeo. The name rolled off her tongue so easily, it was almost disrespectful. "Forgive my cousin. He often times does not guard his tongue."

"I have noticed as much." Mercutia retorted, glare now focused all on him. He smiled sheepishly, and her gaze softened. "But perhaps I could—"

" _Mercutia!_ " A new voice cried. They looked up as the speaker approached, and Romeo felt his heart lodge in his throat at the sight of the regal Valentine, the son and heir of the Duke of Messina.

The young man did not notice him nor his cousin, however, and instead came to a stop next to Mercutia, whom they now realized, was his sister.

"You disappeared so suddenly, I worried for your well being." He breathlessly panted, both hands protectively gripping their young friend's shoulders. "Are you well? Where did you go? You mustn't do such a thing again!"

Mercutia looked both amused and irritated at his concern. "I found new companions." Was all she said as she gestured to them. Valentine followed the direction, and his striking brown eyes fell upon them. Romeo stumbled as he bowed low, and he felt Benvolia shake as she curtsied.

"My liege." He said for both of them once they looked up. The heir smiled softly at them, however, face quite the opposite of Mercutia's strong and almost blunt expressions.

"You needn't bow down to me." He told them, shaking his head. "In fact, I owe you my thanks," He placed a broad hand over Mercutia's head. "For accompanying my sister."

"We watched the faeries dance!" Mercutia suddenly cut in, beaming at her brother as she pointed toward the lights in the boughs of the tree. "We made wishes!"

Valentine frowned a frown so comical, Romeo felt Benvolia smother a little giggle.

"Oh, Mercutia, how many times must I tell you?" the young heir said, scooping his little sister into his arms. "Those are no faeries. Those are fireflies."

"That is absurd!" Mercutia cried, bottom lip trembling as she crossed her arms. "Flies do not catch fire!" She hit him across the chest. "You lie!"

Valentine sighed and bounced her in his arms as if she were a newly sired babe and not a young girl.

"They are faeries, they are faeries." He finally agreed, reluctantly. "Forgive me."

Mercutia did no such thing, however, and instead squirmed, forcing her elder brother to place her back on the ground. She huffed.

"Tomorrow morn, I will go to your abode and there shall we continue our talk." She told them, grin that had quickly become familiar to them both making its way back to her face. Her eyes were glistening as she took hold of her brother's outstretched hand. "Remember this! I shall see you tomorrow morn!"

They parted ways, but the next day, as promised, Mercutia appeared at the Montague's doorstep, dressed in garments that made her look like a boy-child above anything else with her brother close behind.

"Valentine and I were planning to visit the royal stables." She said and Romeo felt his chest swell with joy as all three of them grinned together, eyes shining with happiness and familiarity.

Valentine groaned. "My sister has multiplied."

They simply laughed and ran ahead, leaving poor Valentine to follow.

_Serenades_

Valentine had dubbed them the "The Unholy Trinity". It had been six years since he had done so, and they were no longer children.

But it did not mean that they were not inseparable.

"Come, come, dear Romeo." Mercutia teased as he stared longingly back at his Lady, Belinda's home. A few paces ahead Benvolia walked, wrapped tightly in her shawl (for the day was cold) and was looking very exasperated indeed. "The day is young and winter almost upon us! We must make the most of it."

"Ay, me, my heart is too heavy to make merry." He cried as they neared their sacred place— a small little alcove in between two beautiful sycamore trees. Mercutia had called it the "Altar of The Unholy Trinity", which had Valentine laughing for days on end.

"I am afeared this is but a dreadful nightmare!" He wailed as he took his usual place between his two dearest friends.

Benvolia groaned. "And why do you fear this to be a nightmare?" She asked, rolling her eyes. "Should you not be more afraid of the fact that this be reality?"

"If this be a nightmare, then when I wake, my Lady would cease to exist!" He cried, looking at his cousin in disbelief. She did not understand! "I would rather dwell in a harsh reality than wake up from a nightmare to a world where Belinda does not exist."

"Belinda, Belinda, Belinda." Mercutia sighed, laughing to herself. "She has been all you have been thinking about for the past month."

"Did you not have a different true love a few months prior?" Benvolia continued, her proud brow arching in question. "... Melissa was her name, am I not correct?"

"Indeed," Romeo agreed, sighing at the memory of green eyes and beautiful red hair. "But this love is truer than the last!"

At this, Benvolia groaned and Mercutia snorted.

"Alas, she does not see me the same way..." He went on, ignoring their reactions like he had numerous times before. "And I—"

"—Continue to waste away!" Mercutia dramatically imitated, her arms flailing about. "Heart shredded and mutilated, like a thread-bare robe torn at the seams. What use is this life, oh, Jove above? Why do you laugh at me so?"

Benvolia broke down in laughter.

"You two truly are no jesters." Romeo grumbled. Mercutia simply chortled at his upset tone and waltzed toward him, kissing him on the cheek.

"Despite what you may think, dearest friend, Benvolia and I will follow you to the very ends of the earth." She said, repeating a promise she had told him ages ago. Beside him, Benvolia sighed, but wrapped her hand around his, showing sincerely her agreement.

He found it in him to smile.

"So, will you assist me in my mission?" He asked them, beaming. Mercutia grinned then gave a low bow.

"I am at your service, Lord Romeo!" She proclaimed.

"I still think that this has gone far too long, cousin." Benvolia replied, her frown returning to her fair face. "If she does not wish to be yours, then a noble man such as yourself has no need for her."

"Your tongue seems too experienced in speaking such matters." Mercutia teased, feral grin spilt across her face. Benvolia frowned in return and threw her shawl at their long-time friend.

"I talk in all seriousness, Mercutia." She hissed in reply. "Cousin, she is not worth your precious time—"

"Oh, shush, Benvolia." Mercutia tsked, amused smirk still playing at her lips. "Let him chase his lady's fair ghost. If he wishes to do so and die doing so, then let him!"

Romeo beamed and kissed her on the cheek. "You are truly an Angel fallen from Heaven."

"She does hold some likeness to Lucifer." Benvolia grumbled. Mercutia gave a genuine guffaw and threw her shawl back at her. His cousin caught it, and smiled— albeit it was rather small.

"Very well, then." She continued, throwing the piece of fabric around her shoulders with a sigh. "What do you wish us to do?"

"Tonight, we will visit her beneath the eves of her bower," Romeo announced, smile nearly splitting his joyous face in half. "And you two will assist me in serenading her."

Silence reigned once the last syllable left his lips, and already he saw his piece of information sink in. It took quite awhile, but once it did, Mercutia's amused grin had turned into a look of true delight and Benvolia's exasperated scowl turned into a look of absolute horror. Romeo was taken aback.

"What is wrong?" He asked his cousin, confused.

"On second thought, cousin..." Benvolia started, voice unusually high in volume and scratchy in pitch. "Perhaps another pair of eager ones would be more appropriate."

"Why, how now, fair Benvolia, where has your courage flown?" Mercutia asked, her eyebrows wiggling in suggestion. "You have sworn to help!"

"A lady serenading another lady, even if it just to assist, is unheard of and _will be_ frowned upon." Benvolia hissed in reply, delicate hands clenching into capable fists. "Serenading is out of the question." She shook her head. "'Tis a man's office."

"But—"

"Absolutely not!" Benvolia cried, standing from her perch in an angry whirl wind. "I will not be dragged into this merry chase yet again. Forget to think of it!"

"Come, now, Benvolia." Mercutia started, glee deviously shining in her eyes. "We could dress ourselves according to our roles!"

"'Tis not a life nor death situation." Benvolia retorted, face as red as a tomato. "I will not have my father scold me for doing such a thing."

"Escalus is the Prince of chiding." Mercutia said, snorting like a pig. "He turns as red as his robes when he is furious. I split my sides in laughter every time I see his expression."

"You enjoy vexing your kin." Benvolia pointed out. "I, however, do not, and I am not planning to."

The two women before him looked at each other in such a way that their gaze was as sharp as swords. Seconds passed before Mercutia finally sighed in defeat, wide grin turning its dangerous light to him.

"I agree with who I think will be winning this duel." She said, bowing low in apology. "Forgive me, dear friend, but I do believe you have lost this battle."

Romeo blinked as his own shoulders fell. "But I need—"

"By royal decree, Romeo Montague is no longer allowed to utter the word 'but'." Mercutia solemnly intoned, shaking her head as Benvolia took hold of her arm. "Take Valentine with you."

"Valentine holds no love for me." Romeo replied, his voice pleading. "He plans to run me through, he says so himself."

"It is because he believes you to be influencing his little sister." Benovolia replied, a smirk playing on her lips as Mercutia looked on in disbelief at the idea. "Little does he know..."

"My exploits are no concern of his." Mercutia huffed in reply, frowning. "My brother is nothing but an Eagle whose eyes stubbornly stay on his eaglets yet is oh so easily distracted and wanders off toward other lady birds."

"And thus the pot calls the kettle black." Romeo said, loud enough for only him to hear and Benvolia and Mercutia to ignore. "Please! I beseech you!"

"A no from my lips is _absolute_." Benvolia replied, scowl already on her face. "We will help you some other way, but not in a way that will draw much attention. We will not help you serenade this lady of yours, and that is final."

Romeo protruded his lower lip in a small pout. Mercutia simply laughed however, and Benvolia's scowl deepened.

"'Tis a man's office." She repeated, dragging Mercutia away. "Balthazar will assist you."

"Balthazar is a clumsy fool!" He protested. Mercutia laughed.

"Then Fortune is upon you this night!"

They were already out of earshot before Romeo could retort.

Instead, he simply shook his head and smiled.

_Swords_

Mercutia was unusually skilled in the art of the sword, and had quite the temper to go with it. Every duel she was ever part of, either against him or her brother or some other unlucky lad who was stupid enough to pick a fight, she had won, and even Benvolia confirmed that their friend was indeed more graceful at fighting than she was at dancing. They were confident that she would never lose a single battle.

But she had lost one now. She blamed him for the loss. And who else was there to blame? If he did not try to stop her... If he did not hold her back then perhaps Tybalt would not have pierced her.

Perhaps she would still be well and the wretched Capulet—

"Why the devil did you come between us?" Mercutia demanded, voice a hoarse whisper in the still air. "I was hurt under your arm!"

Her abandoned rapier lay on the ground, close to her hand by just a few inches, and she close to it, wound at her side gushing and painting her a shade of bright, bright red.

He did not know why such a thing had to happen. He did not mean for such a thing to happen.

But happened, it did, and he could do nothing but cradle her in his arms and try to stop the tears that pricked at his eyes.

"I thought all for the best…" He mumbled, rocking her back and forth as blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth.

"Indeed." She rasped, unfocused eyes eerily searching for something, moving back and forth from Benvolia's face to his. Her grip on his hand tightened. "Where is that braggart, Tybalt? Where is the nasty dog?!"

"He has flown, scared away like the frightened cockerel that he is." Benvolia said, tone so quiet and steady and angry for one who was obviously trying not to cry.

Mercutia laughed bitterly. Romeo watched a tear slip the corner of her eye as she turned to him, pale pink lips stained bloody.

"A plague o’ both your houses!” She cried, laughter accompanied by a wet rattle and a pathetic gasp for air. "You came 'tween us… your arm."

"I thought all for the best." He repeated, heart heavy at the idea that he did this."I thought all—"

And then he paused as he swallowed thickly, the sound of his own saliva and blood roaring in his ears.

_I did this._

"Why dost thou contort your effeminate face so?" Mercutia laughed before gasping again, blindly groping around for Benvolia’s hand as she arched her back in pain. Her face was pale. Paler than it should have been. "Take me to the house—"

Romeo stiffened."You are in no—"

"I will not die on the streets like some dog!" She cried, tears now moving freely down her ashen cheeks. Next to him, Romeo heard Benvolia begin to sob. He held back the urge to do the same.

She exhaled a wet breath. "Ben... volia. Take me—"

And then she stilled and did not move again.

"The Prince and Valentine..." Benvolia lamely said as Romeo shook and his tears began to fall. "Tybalt will not go without punishment."

She looked so broken. Like one of those porcelain dolls, shattered and strewn across the floor.

"Torn apart at the seams..." Romeo whispered, removing his hand from his friend's—no. His _sister's_ gaping wound. "Forgive me."

The person in his arms made no reply, and his anger began to sink in.

Then he heard Benvolia gasp. "Tybalt!"

He waited for no confirmation. He simply grabbed the fallen rapier ( _"The Prince will not approve of you carrying such a weapon around." "Oh, old Escalus does not approve of anything."_ ) and he lashed out at the Capulet murderer before anybody else could stop him. In mere seconds, Tybalt lay dead, Mercutia's rapier jutting out of his still chest.

"Run, Romeo!" Benvolia screamed, rushing to his side and pulling him away from the body. Her blood-slicked fingers left stains on his shirt. "Stand not amazed! The people stir and the Prince will doom thee death!"

He spared a glance at Mercutia (dead and cold and _not even smiling_ ), at Benvolia—

And then at his hands. Both were coated in blood that was not his own. He shuddered.

_I did this._

"Oh, I am Fortune's fool!"

He ran. And he did not look back.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: My apologies Mr Shakespeare, I did not intend for you to roll about in your grave but I simply could not resist.
> 
> Also, I wanted to put Juliet somewhere here, even if it was just a little mention but... I don't understand that girl.
> 
> I like her better in AUs than in the actual play. Sorry, Mr Shakespeare.


End file.
